Friday, April 18, 2008


We went shopping for a new mouse because Daniel broke my old one by whamming it on the desk, and because I'm MADE of money, I figured why not get a new keyboard too because my typing sucks, as we all know, but it sucks EVEN MORE thanks to this godawful mac keyboard (ask ANYONE, they'll tell you I'm not making it up). Also, one new mouse? forty bucks. One new mouse plus one new keyboard in a boxed set? Forty bucks. So we went to Big W (Daniel, on seeing the sign outside: *loses his shit* DUBBLE YEW!! DUBBLE YEEEEEEEWWWW!!) and the choices there scared me so we went to the IT warehouse. The prices there scared me even more (no shit, overinflated much? MY GOD. Even the sales girl was all talking out the side of her mouth to me and suggesting I "Go to Officeworks next door, they're much cheaper" so we went to Officeworks and the only keyboard/mouse combo in my price range scared me because HUGE and UGLY much? Jesus. ANYWAY, by this time Daniel had shifted from being congenial and sweet to being a tad churlish, which RAPIDLY accelerated into nightmare screaming and throwing himself on the floor boy, so we left and Daniel groused the whole way home, then I took him inside, put him to bed, snuggled with him (aww) and then said "sweet dreams, see you soon", and the little shit pinged his eyes open and WOKE UP. I left him there anyway on the assumption he was SO tired that he'd drift off immediately, and that if I stayed, he'd be so taken with my company (seriously, he does this) that he'd stay awake until next September.So I tyip toed out and all was quiet - except lo! When I checked on him later, AWAKE. Also with the usual Nap Time Protest Package steaming up his drawers, so I threw him in the shower where he had a wild old time as I blatantly thumbed my nose (and gave the finger to) the stupid water restrictions imposed on us by the government.

aside: I'll take the water crisis seriously when they does. They're trying to save our supply by making us take shorter showers? Oh yeah, very serious, especially as domestic water usage is at around the 0.1% mark of the our main river's load. RIDICULOUS. Bring on the desalination plants and get serious about water catchment, and then I'll think about shaving my shower down to two minutes, tops. There should be catchment areas on EVERY government owned building, and privately owned buildings should at least have the option to lease available space for more. All new structures should come with catchment as a matter of building policy - a ruling that should also apply for private homes, and all other home owners should get tax breaks for installing catchments on their existing homes. And all this water crisis shit is happening because of global warming, remember, so we should be addressing that problem rather than dealing with its symptom. How to start? GROW MORE TREES. So it's unfortunate and reflective of the lack of planning (and seriousness) that we're being forced to let all our greenery die. Dumber still is that council land is also dying off, in some misguided show of solidarity, so yes, dumbfuck water restrictions that can bite my wll showered ass.


In between typing (on my rad new keyboard that, while it hasn't made me type at the speed of sound, has certainly improved my accuracy. FOR REALS) this, I'm wasting hot air blowing up balloons for Daniel before we count to one together and let them loose (ooooonnnnneeeee...GO!!) to fly around the room powered by fart noises. Fun times! Every so often when Daniel is being toted around in the back pack and we're wandering around the supermarket, I grab a whoopee cushion (remember them? The store up the road has them and they're self inflating OHMYGODTHEPOSSIBILITIES) and we fart noise our way around the until we need to leave. Which is usually shortly after we've exhausted the entertainment value of the pthhhhhhhhhhh. I'm a class act, baby, no shit.

We went to the city yesterday and we took the train and Daniel about LOST HIS MIND. Now he's lying on the floor moaning in grief because of some invisible mishap with the last balloon launch. I somehow did something wrong with the last balloon launch. I called Daniel's father too, and we met him for lunch because I'm a nice person and while we were there, bla bla BLA.

It was orthodontist day AGAIN, which is why the train trip into the big (HA) city. I swear, these things are more high maintenance than Naomi Campbell. You think you only need to go for six week tweaks, when in fact your bands are all throwing telephones at your head because GOD CAN'T YOU SEE THAT BRACKET IS BROKEN FIX IT!!!!111!!!1

Stupid bands.

Then we had to go back to the orthodontist AGAIN BEFORE WE CAUGHT THE TRAIN HOME BECAUSE THE BUTTON (WHICH IS A CODE WORD FOR "TONGUE SHREDDER") oops, unsolicited caps lock, sorry. ANYWAY, this "button" thing was glued to the inside of two of my big assed back bottom teeth, and it fell off *ping* just like that, moments after we left from the first appointment, so I called them before we left and the rest is history. In short? Fun times, especially the tongue shredding part of the whole "button" equation.

The other highlight of the day was when we were outside Strep's office building, doing, in retrospect, our best impression of family life (proving yet again that there is NO truth in advertising). We had the cute as a bug toddler running around, Stef and I talking and probably smiling prettily at each other as we did so, me looking AWESOME (okay, maybe not, but this is MY fantasy and I looked AMAZING in it), and then this woman walked past and said to Strep "Hi! I see you here out here all the time, is this your beautiful family?". AND HE SAID YES. The asshat identified me as his "family" and I about choked before smiling wanly as I held back the left hook. She continued with "your daughter is adorable" and then she turned to me and said (WAIT FOR IT) "and you're expecting again, how wonderful!".

So of course I told her I WASN'T, not only to get the facts straight, but so she could spend the next fifteen YEARS kicking herself for suggesting I was.

Man, did she hit the trifecta with me or what? According to her, I'm married, have a daughter and AM PREGNANT

Note to the stupid: Unless a woman is actively giving birth IN FRONT OF YOU, it is NEVER appropriate to congratulate her on her pregnancy because chances are, she's just FAT. LIKE ME. GOD.

So I punched her lights out and am now awaiting trial for aggravated assault. The end.

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